Yes, that's what I need right now. I think the picture below of how I started dinner for this evening says it all. That's the dirty, dry-wall scrap covered steps to my house, and the meager ingredients for dinner. I have so little confidence that this will be remotely edible.As some of you know, my house is undergoing an addition and renovation. The entire kitchen has been moved and there is nothing but a fridge and a disconnected stove in there right now. The walls went up 2 days ago and are being spackled and finished now. I have been mighty patient throughout this process, which started with an incredibly long winter, breaking ground several weeks later than we'd hoped, having our original POS (you figure out the acronym) builder quit after he dug a hole in the backyard for the foundation. We did get a better builder that we know personally in a very quick period of time, and his work has progressed better & faster than I could have hoped for. But this process is starting to take its toll on me now. Something in me snapped last night. I realized I am sick of this now.
I want to sew. I want to take my kids to Boston as we'd planned months ago. Thanks to a Morton's neuroma in my foot that is flaring up, this has been on hold. I want to eat food off of real plates, with something other than plasticware. Hell, I want real food and not things out of a box. We have no seasonings for anything I cook. Everything in the house is covered with a layer of silky dust, or saw dust as was the case with the crock pot. I am amazed at my in-laws that have yet to offer to help with a single thing. Like bringing us a meal would kill them, or watching the kids one day. Seriously. My mom's been helpful, but she's having knee surgery next week and all help will undoubtedly cease. Then as if our fate's not rough enough, she's going with my nieces to the beach for a week. I have the ceiling of an entire 1100 square foot downstairs to paint this weekend or Monday, and then the walls. If they are not done sanding the walls Friday, I may get stuck doing this all next week by myself. With a 4-year old home. Hello! I do need help. I asked my husband to take (No, I told him he'd take a day off if it went to next week) a day off next week to help, and his reply was "don't know if I can". Horseshit. Make it happen. Really, what's it about that having "junk" that makes men think that they can be indifferent to helping with well, absolutely anything? Does he think living through this process everyday is a joy? Oh, and the lawnmower died a week ago, and the front yard is knee-high, he won't go to ask about borrowing one until there's freaking rain in the forecast. Need I say more.
I've had it and I want out.